


Day 25: Scavengers Day

by GemmaRose



Series: Lost Light Fest 2018 [25]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Anxiety, Gen, Help, Starvation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-08-14 08:48:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16489427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GemmaRose/pseuds/GemmaRose
Summary: The mechs whose symbols she can see are Decepticons, but she doesn't care. If they're Cybertronian, they can help her get home.





	Day 25: Scavengers Day

Junior shivered, plating clamped down tight in a desperate attempt to keep heat inside her frame. The days here were shorter than mega-cycles, and with most of her peripheral systems shut down by fuel conservation protocols she couldn’t even be sure how long it had been. Not that the number mattered, whatever it was. It had been _too long_. Without a comm code to dial she hadn’t been able to call Cybertron like she’d been supposed to, and her shanix had quickly run out, leaving her where she was now. Cold and low on fuel, huddled up against a wall with one dull optic on the crowds passing by in the vain hope that maybe, just maybe... 

She jolted, optics flying open as she scrambled to her feet. It had been just a glimpse, but she was sure she’d seen an Autobot insignia on the big funny shaped mech that just walked by. She wobbled out of the alley she’d been huddled in, the ground swaying under her pedes as she stumbled after them. She couldn’t see the funny shaped mechs’ badge anymore, but the mechs with them were definitely Cybertronian. The only ones whose badges she could see were Decepticons, but that didn’t matter. If they had an Autobot with them, they couldn’t be all bad.

She tried to initiate her transformation sequence to fly after them, but only managed to stumble and nearly fall as it didn’t initialize, a bright red popup taking over her HUD to warn her she didn’t have enough fuel in her tanks to fly. Fine, she’d just run. They weren’t moving that fast, even with her small frame she was able to keep up. The low fuel warning kept coming back, and she kept dismissing it with increasingly agitated flicks. She had to get to the Autobot first, had to get them to help.

She stumbled to a stop outside the building the group of Cybertronians had entered, and her vents stalled as her swimming processor finally fully registered what she was about to do. She was about to enter a building, with only the one apparent exit, to talk to a group of strangers. But they were the first Cybertronians she’d seen since she landed here, the first people who might be able to taker her _home_ , if there was even a home to go back to. She squared her shoulders, forced a deep in-vent, and pushed through the door. Whirl and Brainstorm and the rest of her family would be looking for her, she had to get to where they thought she’d be. She dismissed yet another low fuel warning, the world pitching under her pedes as the warmth of inside hit her, and stumbled towards where the Cybertronians were standing all bunched together.

“Excu-” her vocaliser shut down with an abrupt click, and what little strength she had in her limbs vanished, sending her pitching face first to the floor. [Fuel Levels Critical] flashed across her HUD, white text on a bright red background that took up her whole internal display. [Entering Stasis Mode] flashed after it, and Junior’s world went black.

\---

“Hush, she’s coming back online.” an unfamiliar voice snapped, and Junior went tense as her slowly booting processor fed her information. Necroworld, the DJD, Troja Major, _unknown femme leaning over her prone frame_. She sat bolt upright with a screech and swung hard, knuckles first, thumb outside, just like Brainstorm and Nautica had showed her. The femme, a mini even smaller than she was with a Decepticon badge sitting proud on her chest, staggered back with a sharp cry and a dented cheek. Junior’s optics flicked side to side, and she scrambled up onto her unsteady pedes to throw herself behind the only mech present _not_ wearing a Decepticon badge.

“She dented me!” the minicon exclaimed, pressing a hand to her cheek. Junior fumbled in her easy access subspace, and swore softly when she didn’t find her gun. They must’ve taken it.

“Looking for this?” the funny-looking purple and grey Decepticon held up her gun, and Junior lurched halfway out from behind the Autobot’s leg before she realised the trap for what it was and retreated back to relative safety.

“Hey, hey, back up.” a brightly painted mech with no badge said, making a shooing motion. “You’re scaring her.”

“Scaring her?” the pink one with wings scoffed. “We’ve not _done anything_.”

“Maybe not, but you’re ‘Cons. You’ve a reputation.” the mech jabbed a finger at the pink one’s chest, and he took a step back with a grumble. The minicon actually turned to leave, and Junior eased out from behind the Autobot’s leg as the new mech crouched down in front of him. “I’m the Curator. Who might you be?” he extended a hand, field projecting _calm comfort safety_ , and Junior relaxed slightly.

“Junior.”

“Junior. An interesting name.” the Curator nodded sagely. “If it is help you need, Junior, I will see what I can do to provide it. But first, I have business to discuss with these fine mechs.” he gestured to the Decepticons, who seemed amused by something. “You are free to peruse my museum in the meantime.”

Junior nodded once when it became clear the Curator was waiting for an answer, and when he stood back up the Autobot she’d been sticking close to turned and started towards the exit. She tensed, optics flicking from the Curator to the Decepticons to the Autobot with the weird alt-mode, and after a nano-klik scurried after the Autobot.

“Um, yeah. Grimlock.” the minicon was saying when Junior slipped out the door after the Autobot. “I know who you are. A friend of mine used to mention you a lot, you broke his face.”

“Grim weather.” the Autobot, apparently Grimlock, said. His glyphs were strange, and not the way Cyclonus’s were. Cyclonus’s glyphs were fancy and old-fashioned, Grimlock’s were... heavy was the only word she could come up with.

“Oh. Right.” the minicon looked aside, and her optics landed on Junior. She’d fixed her cheek, and lifted a hand to rub the scuffed metal when they made optic contact, teal fingers rubbing at the smudge of pale purple Junior’s knuckles had left on impact. “It’s you.” her optics flicked over Junior’s frame, and she put on a small smile. “Guess you’re feeling better.”

“Mmhm.” Junior nodded. Most of her systems were back up and running, and her tank was about a quarter full. Nowhere near satisfying, but infinitely better than what she’d been running on these past deca-cycles.

“So, you got a designation to go with that right hook?”

“Do you?”

The minicon laughed. “Nickel of Prion.”

Junior looked down at her pedes, gently scorched and dented from the flaming haill she’d not been able to find adequate shelter from earlier. “Whirl.” she said softly. “Whirl Jr. of the Lost Light.”

“Hey, shorties.” a voice came from behind her, and Junior’s blades popped out to full length as she spun around, ready to carry her up away from danger. It was just the pink ‘Con with the wings, though. “Come on in, you’re missing all the exposition!”

“Her too?” Grimlock asked, leaning down and bumping his helm against the rotor hub on her back.

“Yeah, sure. The pay’s big enough to pick up a scout for one job.” he flashed her a grin, and Junior realized she’d not read any of their data tags yet. Misfire. This one was called Misfire.

“After- I mean, once this, the job thing, is done... could you take me back to Cybertron?” she asked, looking up at Misfire with wide optics.

“Slag, we’re headed there anyway.” Misfire scoffed. “But you gotta pull your weight on this job.”

“Okay.” Junior managed a smile. “I don’t weigh much.”

Misfire cycled his optics at her, then burst out laughing. “I think you’re gonna get on with us _famously_.”


End file.
